Just a Memory
by ilyilyx3
Summary: Memories are usually regarded as being insignificant and only a part of the past. But then again, why is it that the past is the key to his and her future? TxG
1. Prologue

**Just a Memory**

**Prologue**

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_I'm throwing away pictures that I never should have taken in the first place._

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"I can't believe you said no." He repeated for the millionth time that night, walking through the door after her.

"What do you want from me?" She asked in an exasperated tone, running her hands through her hair. "I told you, I'm just not ready."

He gave a snort of disbelief, as he slammed the door behind him, "How can you not be ready? We've been together for two years, for god's sake. You're acting like we just met or something."

She cringed slightly at the noise of the slam, "Some couples wait until five years to get married." She stated, sitting on the couch.

"We're not some other couple," he rolled his eyes, moving to stand in front of her, "And as much as I love you, I am not going to wait for you that long. I'd like to still be able to play with my kids when I have them, thank you very much."

"We're not even that old," She frowned, as she stared at the floor, shaking her head, "And if you're willing to let me go that easily, I don't know why you're even asking me to marry you."

"You know what? I don't know why either." He replied with a frustrated voice, ignoring the flash of hurt in her eyes.

"Is everything okay?" She questioned, "Nothing you're doing is making any sense."

"You don't make any sense!" he spat at her, "God, maybe I should just ask some other whore to marry me. They probably wouldn't have rejec-" His statement was interrupted when he felt an impact resembling a slap on the side of his face. Grimacing to himself, he raised his hand to his sore cheek and stared at his girlfriend who had stood up, in shock.

"Go ahead and ask some other whore." She hissed, and shook her head, clenching and unclenching her mildly throbbing hand angrily. "We're done here. I'm done with you, no more of this bullshit." She stated solemnly, grabbing her keys, as she made her way out of the door.

As she got into her car, she swallowed a seemingly large lump down her throat, as she looked up at the building standing tall before her. This house was supposed to be the start of a special milestone in their relationship but instead, it had turned out to be the start of their ultimate downfall.

The two had met outside a small café, when she had been running after a stray paper that had gotten away from her in midst of traveling through the city during the windy day. As she ran, she saw that a man had caught the paper before it could travel any farther. He had teasingly held it up so high that she wouldn't be able to reach it with her small stature. He'd told her that he'd give it back to her if she would have a cup of coffee with him. Reluctantly, she agreed to go with him. It turned out to be a great decision on her part after she left the tiny coffee shop; she had finally gotten back the stubborn paper that she was chasing after for so long, and in addition to that, a small folded napkin with a number written on it.

The standard three days had passed before she received a phone call from him. Steadily, the two went on dates and got to know each other, eventually becoming a couple. Soon enough, she could tell that she was already falling for him; she could only hope that he felt the same way. And he did. He'd told her he loved her six months into the relationship. Everything had been going great for the two too. She'd finally finished her last year of college, attaining her degree in psychology, and he had just been promoted and given a raise at his job as a graphic designer. Both of them had rarely gotten into any fights, and whenever they did, they'd work it out within a day or two. It was a seemingly perfect relationship…until she suggested that they move in together.

He was hesitant to give up his bachelor pad at first, but he eventually warmed up to the idea and together, the two looked for a place to stay, someplace new where they could start their life as a couple. They found a house they both loved, and could afford to rent, and they moved in. Both of them lived a blissful life, where only arguments over who would do the laundry or cook would bother them. However, after the second month of living in the new house, he had been getting extremely distant from her. He was hardly ever home, and the two barely talked to each other anymore. Phone calls were two minutes in length at most–three if she was on hold beforehand, and kisses and hugs were unaffectionate, few and almost nonexistent. After trying for months, she just didn't know what to do anymore. All she wanted was her boyfriend back, and not this shell of the guy he used to be.

Just as she had almost lost all hope, last week he surprised her. He had actually been home while she was awake and conscious, and he had kissed her almost wholeheartedly as he had when they first started going out. He had even asked her out on a date, something he hadn't done in a year. She got ready, and they eventually left for the fancy restaurant where during dessert, she had completely frozen in her seat when he had gotten down on one knee and asked her the one question that she had dreamed of being asked since she was a child.

She held in her tears as best as she could, while she shook her head to get rid of the heavy amount of congestion in her head. She backed out of the driveway, as she pressed her foot to the petal, willing herself to drive as far as she could, just so she could get away from him, from everything. She needed to forget all of the hurt that she'd accumulated in the past five months with him. She needed to forget everything, good and bad, about him.

And she needed to forget _now_.

* * *

_And it's cold in my apartment, as I'm changing all colors from the brightest reds to grays._

_If You Wanted a Song Written About You, All You Had to Do Was Ask - Mayday Parade.  
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A/N: I'm back again, surprisingly. I don't know where this came from, but I like what I have for it so far. Just to let you know, I'm planning on consistently updating this weekly, or once every two weeks if I'm that busy. I swear on my ipod, cell phone, and laptop, that I won't abandon this midway. And when it comes to those three things, you know this is serious business. Haha.

I hope you enjoyed this prologue, and a few words of wisdom; not everything is like it seems.

Let me know what you think? :)


	2. Unexpected

**Just a Memory**

**Chapter One - Unexpected**

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_My heart woke up my head like a thunderstorm; a place where I can barely stand._

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_"__Her eyes are green."_

_"__All newborns are supposed to have green eyes."_

_"__No, the parenting book said the eyes might be blue not green."_

_"_…_she's not mine, is she?"_

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Growing up, Troy Bolton had always liked solving problems.

He was a thinker, and he had the determination to endure a limitless amount of obstacles to fix anything. He liked everything to be organized, well-kept, and done according to his standards.

The sport of basketball was his first problem to solve. His father was a past player in the national league, and naturally, he wanted his son to take after him. When the round orange ball was first introduced to Troy, his small hands had begun to contemplate the best ways to grip the ball and soon enough, how to shoot it in the net. As time went on, he had figured out how to make crazy shots suitable for a game of Horse, the most efficient ways to dribble the ball, the best tactics to use when playing both offense and defense, and how to shoot a free-throw, not an air-ball. The game was like a puzzle to him; one that he liked picking apart mercilessly to see if it could fit together in any other way.

Basketball was everything to him during a period of time, but as he grew older, he got bored of it. There wasn't anything new to discover; every time he played, it was the exact same thing.

It was merely forty eight minutes of running, shooting, dribbling, and blocking.

So he didn't announce that he was going to go into the NBA draft his senior year like his school and town expected him to, nor did he join the basketball team at his college, like his dad wanted him to. During his days on campus, he focused on his academics and branched out to try other things. In his freshman year, he dabbled in as many majors as he could. It was his sophomore year when he found his interest and decided to double major in business and finance. He liked the idea of the permanently changing business world. He liked that fact that he had to work hard to think of solutions to the problems that changed whenever advances were made in terms of the business world, and/or when the economy shifted multiple times.

But when it came to solving money problems for pompous, overly cocky heirs to fortunes consisting of millions (or billions) of dollars, he never did enjoy his job as a financial analyst/adviser to big CEOs.

At first, he'd joined a small company his father's friend ran, where he gave help to small business owners and sometimes on the odd occasion, bank owners. He had wanted to help build up the almost unknown company, but as his skills were being noted at a faster rate, larger clients had started calling him. Soon enough, one of the largest companies in New York had contacted him, and gave him an offer he couldn't refuse to take. He figured he could put away enough money to someday create his own company. It was a work in progress, but he loved the problems he had to resolve. He liked the challenge of figuring out which stock, or product would be the best to invest in, but added with the consistent barking and impatience of the brats, he couldn't take it.

His tired eyes had been trailing across the computer screen in front of him for hours and yet, he still couldn't decide which stock his newest client should have confidence in. He hadn't even started on his report, which was due in just twenty four hours. The moment his cell phone rang, he instantly rolled his eyes. His boss was probably one of the most persistently impatient men he'd ever met. He was constantly panicking over the littlest details, and when things were done even a fraction of a second late, he would become stressed and start yelling.

Frustrated at the incessant ringing, he picked up the phone and answered it, "Look, I'm working on the report right now, Gary. I even have about a day left to complete it, so if you could kindly back off and let me do my job how I want to, that would be great."

"If you were more observant, you would know that this isn't Gary." The voice said simply.

"Mom." Troy choked in surprise, cursing himself for not having looked at the caller id beforehand. "I'm sorry. It's just-"

"I know," She interrupted before he could continue his apology, "You're working and didn't bother to check your phone."

"Actually I…okay, yeah." He replied sheepishly, not bothering to make up an excuse. "So, what's up? What have I done to receive this lovely phone call from my mother?"

There was a pause on the other end, "Well…I don't really know how to tell you this."

"Just go for it, Mom. I'm a big boy now." He joked, frowning when a sniffle came from his mother's end.

"There was an accident," She started, "and unfortunately, Gabriella was caught in it."

"…What?" He asked in shock, as he felt his heart dropping to his stomach. "Mom, you have got to be kidding. Is it April Fool's Day again? Because let me tell you, I still haven't forgotten about last year's joke."

"I'm afraid it's not, Troy. She's in a hospital right now."

His hand that was holding the phone trembled, and he felt the electronic device almost slip from his grasp, "How, where?"

"I'm not clear on the details yet, but I wanted to let you know."

"I'll go pack and head to the airport right now."

"Troy," Came the reply of her stern voice. "You have to work. Remember, you haven't even been home since last Christmas. How would you have time for this?"

Troy ran a hand through his hair and silently rolled his eyes; now was not the time for a guilt trip. "I think I'll be okay. Have Dad email me the details, okay?"

"Alright." She answered hesitantly.

"Okay," He replied, before adding, "Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

Lucille Bolton always expected the wrong things to happen, no matter what.

The moment she had been blessed with the news that she was going to be having a baby, she had expected herself to have a girl. She had heard many old wives' tales of how to tell if you were having a boy or girl, and every single of the signs pointed to being a girl. Her stomach during her pregnancy was perched high and not low, she'd craved sweets instead of sour things, her husband was gaining weight almost as much as she was, she had picked up a key by its pointed end, whenever someone called her she would turn to her right, and her face was often red and rosy. She was definitely sure that she was having a girl. She had even begun knitting dresses and picking out pink colored paint and accessories for the nursery.

However, when the time came for her child to be born, she had been presented a soft blue bundle, that held her baby boy.

After having her first child, she had presumed that she and her husband, Jack, were going to live a happy life with their son. But soon enough, she was diagnosed with postpartum depression. She had been beginning to lose sleep every night. She didn't enjoy being around the many people that came to visit her nor was she the happy person she used to be. Soon, she was starting to experience a decrease in her energy and moments where she was supposed to be admiring her son in amazement, had been spent staring at him in disgust. Eventually, the situation got as drastic as her wanting to hurt him while he was asleep. Fearing for his safety, she and Jack had decided to send him to his grandfather who lived a couple of hours away, just until she was well again.

When she was in high school, she and her long time best friend, Maria were inseparable, until graduation time came along. Her best friend was heading to the East Coast, while she was expecting to head to the West Coast. They'd departed from each other, and she felt as if they would never be the same anymore. She'd expected them to lose touch and never meet again. However, when she and her husband moved back to her hometown of Albuquerque, she'd found the biggest surprise in her life when she noticed her best friend lived just next door with her own daughter. As their two children went through middle school together, the two had been inseparable just like their parents had. Lucille and Maria had always joked of the two getting together when they were older, and by the time the two had reached high school, they were actually a couple. Seeing how the two fit so perfectly together, Lucille had always expected them to stay high school sweethearts and make it through college, eventually marrying each other.

Unfortunately, she found that her expectation was wrong once again.

One evening she had called Gabriella to check up on her, and when she'd answered the phone, she knew something was wrong. Her voice was cracking, there was sniffling in the background, and she just didn't sound the same as she used to. When Lucille had asked about how she and Troy were doing, Gabriella told her they were no longer together, and when she'd tried to ask why, Gabriella begged her to leave it at that. She had tried asking Troy himself, but he gave her the same reaction. After weeks or trying, she gave up on asking for answers.

Currently, when Lucille had received a call from Maria, she had been expecting a phone call where the two long time best friends would catch each other up with the gossip around town, and what they'd been up to since the last couple of days they'd seen each other. What she didn't expect, was their phone call to be on a serious matter, full of grief and worry, and one concerning absolutely nothing remotely playful and fun.

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Nervously, Troy sat inside his rental car, staring up at the tall glassy building right in front of him. He honestly didn't know what to expect when he went in there. What would happen when he finally saw her again? That is, if she was even willing to let him see her after what had happened. As he took a deep breath to console himself, he got out, closed the door, and locked the vehicle. He almost begrudgingly walked up to the entrance, and walked straight to the secretary that was situated at the large desk.

"Hi, how may I help you?" She asked, smiling warmly in a customary sympathy.

He tried to return a smile as best as he could, "I'm here to visit someone."

"Last name, please?"

"Montez," He answered, swallowing thickly. "Her first name's Gabriella."

The secretary nodded, before typing briefly on her keyboard in front of her. "She's on the third floor, in room 388." She told him, as she wrote the information down on the paper, and ripped the wristband off, separating it from the rest.

"You'll need this to get up there." She gave him the strip of paper, "Just tear off the seal, press the two ends together and it'll stick."

"Thank you." He replied politely, putting on the wristband. He walked towards the elevator, and pressed the button, waiting for the doors to open up. Once they did, he stepped inside the empty enclosure, and pressed the button with the three on it.

Troy shuffled on his feet lightly, as he stuffed his hands inside his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. The elevator stopped at the destination, and its doors finally opened to expose him to the third floor. He got out, and looked from side to side, trying to make out which side was the evens or odds. When he figured out the direction of Gabriella's room, he immediately headed towards it. As he stood outside of the door, he began to brace himself for the worse. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her again after so long, especially if she was physically hurt and probably extremely scratched up for that matter. Telling himself he was being a wimp, he finally knocked, and after hearing a quiet invitation to come in, he opened the door and walked inside.

"Gabriella." He breathed, staring at the sitting figure before him. She still looked the same as she did the last time he'd seen her three years ago. However, she looked more like an adult now, rather than a teenager. She had a large bandage on top of her right brow, and her right arm was bandaged up with a thick white gauze.

"Troy!" She exclaimed, smiling in excitement at him. "I was wondering when you were coming. Get over here, babe."

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the use of an old pet name and her acceptance of him, but before he could say anything, she was impatiently motioning him to come to her. Chalking it up as a new habit of hers to call everyone that, he walked over to her, as he sat down on the bed, careful to make sure he was able to avoid putting any of his weight on her.

"Hey Brie," He greeted quietly, gingerly running his hand over her forehead, trailing his fingertips across the newly formed bruises and cuts that laid there. "How are-"

Before he could get another word out of his mouth, she had already pulled his face to hers, and pressed their lips together, effectively interrupting his question and distracting him from questioning her about the current state of her wellbeing. As he placed his focus solely on kissing the brunette before him, all other insignificant thoughts that were clouding his mind disappeared and faded away. Thoughts of his work, his life back home, everything just fled from his mind, allowing a different feeling to fill and revisit him.

He felt alive like he had all those years he'd been with her.

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_I spent a winter without my air, but now I feel it in my chest._

_This Is War - The Dangerous Summer._

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A/N: I've had this chapter done for a while, but I've been busy and when I actually had time to post, I've been hesitant to do so. The plot for this story hasn't been completely outlined yet, and I have a couple of gaps I need to fill in. But thank you for the support so far, I hope I don't disappoint. :)

Oh, and the quotes in the beginning of the chapter _are_ important. You just won't know why for a while.


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